


Like hands joined together, like the end and the way

by fifthnorthumberland



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Marijuana, Mortal Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifthnorthumberland/pseuds/fifthnorthumberland
Summary: It's a rare occasion these days, being all together like this; relaxed, intoxicated, defenses down. Drunk on the company, if not the wine, they are a merry bunch. The day had been full and fun; Joe and Nicky had gotten married, again, in their little garden.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	Like hands joined together, like the end and the way

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for recreational marijuana smoking and drinking. This fic is set after the fact and doesn't revolve around it.

Joe is truly, completely content. Quýnh finishes explaining how weddings were celebrated where she grew up, millenia ago, as Joe picks up the empty dessert plates and forks to bring them to the kitchen. The sounds of his family laughing and talking casually in the background make the slight buzz he's still enjoying from smoking before dessert that much more delightful as he puts the dirty dishes in the sink. 

The day had been full and fun; Joe and Nicky had gotten married, again, in their little garden that afternoon. It had been just the six of them, dressed in their best chic but casual ensembles, and oh so many flowers. After the champagne had started getting to everyone, Joe had taken a favored pipe to smoke amidst the flowers and vegetables he and Nicky inherited from the previous owner of their home. 

Now pleasantly buzzed and in great company, he's midway through fetching another bottle of white wine from the fridge when he feels Nicky's warm hand on his lower back and turns to see his soft smile wrinkling his half-hooded eyes. The wine has gotten to Nicky and made him languid and soft, Joe can tell. He loves Nicky like this. It's a rare occasion these days, being all together like this; relaxed, intoxicated, defenses down. Drunk on the company, if not the wine, they are a merry bunch. 

Joe closes the fridge door and presents Nicky with the wine. Nicky takes it and lets their fingers brush for longer and much slower than necessary, indulging in an errant caress, as he declares "Ah, just what I was looking for." He's not looking at the wine, though, and it makes Joe chuckle as he kisses his delicious, silly husband. 

"Is it, now?" he queries, jokingly. 

Nicky's eyes are still closed and he looks just like he does when he tastes perfectly ripe fruit or an exquisite wine, savouring and dazed. When he opens his eyes, he stares directly at Joe's own and it sends thrills down his spine and sets a simmer in his belly. 

"Definitely." replies Nicky, suddenly seeming more sober. 

His gaze falls back down to Joe's parted lips and Joe might be slightly high, but he's not slow enough to miss the hint and he leans in to capture Nicky's lips again. When his husband opens up, he tastes bittersweet, like wine, and when he pulls at Joe's bottom lip, Joe has to take a breath and focus. What were they doing? Does it matter, when he has Nicky so soft and warm, with his pink, wet lips just inches away? 

A burst of laughter that dies down into contented sighs breaks the spell and Joe inhales deeply as he smooths his hands down Nicky's arms, grounding them once again to reality. As he exhales, he smiles at Nicky, a mischievous grin which says _I see you, and I know we both need more of this._ Nicky holds onto the rolled up sleeve of Joe's button up as he exhales sharply. 

"Later?" Nicky asks, hopeful. 

Joe wants to say _Now and forever, my love, again and again_ , but their beloved guests are enjoying themselves and it would be rude to cut the celebrations short. 

He settles on "Definitely." before pressing one last loving kiss to Nicolò's lips. And then one more to his rosy cheek, for good luck.

From the dining room, soft Ethiopian jazz fills a moment of quiet as Joe and Nicky exit the kitchen. Joe's mildly aware that Nicky is still holding onto his sleeve, following behind him like a shadow, like a promise. They regain their seats, facing each other from across the table and Joe feels Nicky's ankle press against his under the table. Incurable romantic, him? Oh, how similar they are. 

Andy, old and beautiful with the streak of grey hair now adorning her fringe, is telling Nile about Joe and Nicky's first wedding ceremony. 

"...and Nicky fell off the camel!" she finishes with a laugh that quickly turns into a snort. 

Joe smirks at the memory. He'd rushed to the ground, worried about his husband's scratched up knees even as they healed before his eyes, just as they had hundreds of times before. Later that night, under the desert sky, he had washed Nicky's knees and kissed them. Like a baptism, Nicky would say. Blessed into their new life together.

Lost in the memory and in each other's eyes, they forget when and where they are until Booker takes over the storytelling. He recounts the luck they had to travel on a ship whose captain was glad to marry them along the coast of South Africa. Joe had spent ages trying to find a ring for Nicolò at the ports, only to come aboard empty handed. It was Booker who had found the ring and slipped it into Joe's hand before a raid. "If we make it out of this one, you better make an honest man out of him." Booker had joked, winking at Joe. The ring was promptly lost in battle and Joe had to make do with a piece of string and a shoddy pearl. Nicky's kept the pearl safe for centuries, much like Joe’s heart.

There are new rings now adorning their fingers. Joe’s in the habit of wearing one if not many rings, something from the old world that never quite wore off and that, much to his delight, came back in fashion recently. Nicky, however, is still getting used to the weight of the slim signet ring on his hand. Joe observes him as he traces the narrow black face of it with this thumb absently. Every time Joe puts a ring on Nicky’s finger, he gets to watch him memorize its shape and weight until he gets used to it and every time, it rings like a call to prayer in his chest; _mine, shared, beloved, treasured, forever._

Joe’s hand reaches across the table for Nicky’s left and it’s like they’re magnetized to each other’s true north; Nicky’s hand is there in his, the shape and weight already memorized and known. Joe gazes at Nicky as Nicky gazes at him and for a moment, Booker’s story, their own story, is background noise to their attention. _Attention is the beginning of devotion_ , Joe remembers the line from an essay he read in a book Nicky had left on their bedside table. He winks to Nicky who glances quickly towards the hallway that leads to their bedroom. _Soon_. Joe squeezes his husband’s hand.

They will enjoy the rest of this fuzzy night of recollections and celebration of their love with their friends for a little while longer, then serve coffee as the cloud of inebriation lifts and as yawns get louder and longer. Joe will bid farewell to Nile, Quynh, Booker and Andy with a hand on Nicky’s back as Nicky hugs them good night. It will be the two of them alone again and they will make their way to bed together, drunk on each other’s company and centuries old memories of nights just like this one. A bedroll in the desert; a lumpy bed in a ship’s cabin; a stolen moment in the middle of a dark night; a cozy snowy evening in a mountain. 

Joe holds Nicky’s left hand as he pulls him to bed to fulfill his promise of _later_ , knowing its shape and weight as his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @regarklipop for looking this over and for being a pal!
> 
> The title is from the poem in Ursula K. Leguin's The Left Hand of Darkness; 
> 
> Light is the left hand of darkness,  
> and darkness the right hand of light.  
> Two are one, life and death, lying  
> together like lovers in kemmer,  
> like hands joined together,  
> like the end and the way.
> 
> A certain sonnet has had me contemplating themes of darkness and love and Joe and Nicky... (Marwan Kenzari, I owe you my life.)
> 
> The essay Joe references is in Mary Oliver's book Upstream. Nicky, like I, is a simple homosexual and I think he would like her writing.
> 
> Nicky's ring exists! Go read its description, it is so poetic and suiting: https://meideyajewelry.com/collections/all-rings/products/night-vale-ring  
> And it has a matching one I picture Joe wearing: https://meideyajewelry.com/collections/all-rings/products/vale-signet-ring
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come talk to me on Tumblr @piningsidekick


End file.
